The River and the Rose
by Les Varioufs
Summary: "His hearts were being ripped out, sucked into Nothingness. It would be so easy, so very easy just to follow her, to let this pain end." Deleted scenes from Doomsday to Let's Kill Hitler. The painful journey from the loss of one companion to the moment he found another.
1. Goodbyes

**Author's Note:**Ok, so I'm writing this because I always wondered how the Doctor went from very obviously pining over Rose when travelling with Martha and Donna to being seemingly in love with River. I know that he had regenerated since he left Rose and that a lot of time had probably passed between adventures, but as what happened between was not shown on screen I thought I'd give it a shot (if only so my mind would leave me alone). I've been wondering about doing this for a while now and it was only during Let's Kill Hitler, when the Doctor asked the voice interface to turn into someone he liked and that it became Rose (why not River at that point, or the Ponds? After all it did eventually become Ameliah, so it had obviously been updated to include his new companions, or at least Amy as a child) that the idea really began bugging me and won't leave me alone. So yeah I hope you enjoy this. I haven't written in a very long time and am not very familiar with the characters, so if I make any mistakes (big or small) please tell me so I can improve the story.

Enjoy :)

**Chapter 1. Goodbyes.**

His hearts were being ripped out, sucked into Nothingness, and he tightened his grip almost convulsively. And as he screamed, as he stared into her desperate eyes as she was pulled ever further away from him, he considered letting go. It would be so easy, so very easy just to follow her, to let this pain end. He fought against every one of his survival instincts and was just about to make the final, fatal decision when Pete materialised out of nowhere, caught Rose in the nick of time, and disappeared again. Now, he was frozen in shock.

Before he could really understand what was happening his feet were on the ground again and he was staring at a blank white wall. A blank white wall where Rose should be. He walked up to it slowly, hearts beating painfully in his throat as he struggled against the moisture in his eyes, and tenderly put his hand on the wall. He could feel her doing the same on the other side, and he leaned forwards, resting his ear against the wall, almost convincing himself that he could hear her crying.

He didn't know how long he stayed like that – for once, his sense of time had stopped working properly. Seconds turned into minutes which turned into hours, and the hours turned into days. He felt like he had been stood there for years, felt like he had merged with the wall, had become a statue at its side. He could quite happily have stayed there for longer, he thought, if an idea hadn't suddenly flitted into his brain, apologetic yet hopeful.

He wavered for a moment, trying to gather the courage to leave the wall. He couldn't leave her, not now, not like this. He sucked in a ragged breath. He had to do it, he knew, or he would never forgive himself. There was a chance that it could work – a small, infinitesimally small chance, but one that he was willing to take.

He sprinted through corridors, banging into faceless people, tripping over chairs, deaf to everything but his own frantic breathing. Finally he saw a blur of blue and he blinked – he hadn't even realised he was losing the battle – and the TARDIS stood before him, majestic and strong and yet humming with sadness. He closed his mind off to her attempted caress of comfort – not that, anything but that, not now – and slammed the door behind him, leaning against it as if it was the only thing keeping him standing. Perhaps it was, he reflected, as he took a wobbly step towards the console.

He took a deep breath to steady himself, and then another as her terrified face popped unbidden into his mind, threatening his tenuous grasp on composure once more. He ran his hands through his hair.

"_No, you're just sort of… brown."_

_ "Ohhh, I wanna be ginger, I've never been ginger!"_

He barked out a laugh unconvincing even to himself and yanked levers frantically. He was running out of time – the cracks between worlds were closing and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

One by one they closed, shutting off access to Rose just as he was about to use them. Fewer and fewer were left, and not even a time machine could help him now. It was just too fast. He had never felt so helpless in all his lives.

He collapsed into the pilot's chair and ran his hands through his hair again, not noticing the jacket that Rose had left nearby. He'd missed them all. Every single –

The TARDIS hummed desperately, but he ignored her.

-one. How was that even possible? He was a _Time Lord_, this wasn't supposed to happen!

The TARDIS hummed again, the lights to the console room blinking on and off rapidly.

What was the point of him? He groaned and brought his head down to his knees, hands on the back of his head, as if this would protect him from his thoughts, from his failure. So many people lost, but it was never going to be the same with Rose, never – he had always told himself she was the one he wouldn't lose, that she was the time he would finally get it right. But here he was again, he had led her to her death – no, not death, he reminded himself, she was still alive in the other universe.

This time the TARDIS rocked, knocking the Doctor onto the floor.

"Ow! What was that for?"

The console blinked and flashed. Scarcely daring to hope, the Doctor hauled himself to his feet and stared at the screen.

"But that's impossible."

The TARDIS hummed, this time a lower pitch.

"But how did you… it's still open. All I have to do is find a power source big enough and…" he trailed off as he caught sight of a nearby sun. "Oh, you clever girl."

The TARDIS hummed appreciatively.

The Doctor ran frantically around the console, flicking switches, pulling levers and swinging hammers. The sun began to burn up, consumed by his efforts, and a voice in the back of his mind began yelling that he hadn't checked for life.

The Doctor looked up, horror-struck. No. How could he have forgotten? He kicked the console. The TARDIS hummed reproachfully and opened a page of data. The Doctor scanned it, one eye on the process of opening up the crack in the universe, anxious about the outcome of both.

Uninhabited. Planets long dead. A non-sentient sun. Of course. The Doctor nearly laughed in relief – of course. The TARDIS would have scanned before even making the suggestion. He felt a surge of affection for her as he pushed the last button.

This was it.

"Rose," he murmured, scarcely daring to believe that this was working. He looked at the computer monitor; his voice was getting through, it showed that much. It just couldn't show where or when.

"Rose," he murmured again, half to reassure himself that she was still alive and half to tell her that he was coming, if she could hear him.

He pulled a lever and the power input increased. Behind him, the sun's death accelerated. The crack in time and space grew wider, and he closed his eyes, concentrating on sending his thoughts through to Rose so that she would know where to find him. Sweat began to stand out on his brow with the effort of maintaining the link for so long and he gripped the console, his knuckles white with strain. He could do this. He had to.

"Rose," he whispered, and let go, unable to hold on any longer.

He opened his eyes slowly, took a deep, steadying breath, and looked at the monitor again. It had worked – she had been able to follow his voice. She was there. He swallowed. Before he could think twice he pushed the final button.

oOo

A beach began to materialise around him. Cold, wet and rainy. Perfect for a final goodbye. And there she was. His Rose, stood alone on the beach, facing her family and Mickey, who were stood a good few metres away. She turned around slowly and squinted at him.

"Where are you?"

"Inside the TARDIS. There's one tiny gap in the universe left, just about to close." He didn't mention how he had tried the others – there wasn't enough time. "And it takes a lot of power to send this projection; I'm in orbit around a supernova. I'm burning up a sun just to say goodbye." He blows air out of his nose at that; a feeble attempt at a laugh. He really did hate goodbyes.

Rose shook her head, squinting at him still. "You look like a ghost."

"Hold on." He pointed his sonic screwdriver at the console. The sun began to burn up even faster, but he found it hard to care much. If he was going to do this, he might as well do it properly.

She didn't say anything, but she didn't have to. The look on her face as she walked towards him said it all, and he felt his hearts break just a little more. Finally she was in front of him, raising her hand to his face…

"Can I tou-"

"I'm still just an image," he said regretfully. Never had he wanted to be close to her more than he did now. Suddenly he found himself wishing that he had not been so inclined to run away, that he hadn't tried so hard to bury his feelings. He had known this day might come, after all. "No touch."

She began to shake, and the Doctor longed to just take her in his arms, to hold her close, tell her she was safe, that this would all go away. That he could fix it. "Can't you come through properly?"

"The whole thing would fracture," he explained, the memory of the glass window in Torchwood popping unbidden into his mind. "Two universes would collapse."

"So?"

He smiled at that. Rose Tyler, always making him smile even in the worst situations. She was good for him; she had brought him so far out of the dark…

He looked around, trying desperately to distract himself. He didn't want to think about what he would become without her. "So where are we? Where did the crack some out?"

"We're in Norway."

"Norway, right."

"About fifty miles out of Bergen. It's called Dårlig Ulv-Stranden."

"_Dalek_?"

"Dårlig. It's Norwegian for bad. It translates as Bad Wolf Bay."

He grinned widely, fighting hard to keep the memories at bay.

"How long have we got?" She asked, sounding desperately close to tears.

"About two minutes."

She tried to smile then, pulling her hair back from her face in an attempt to distract herself from the tears that they both knew were inevitable. "I can't think what to say."

"You still got Mr Mickey then."

"There's five of us now. Mum, Dad, Mickey, me and the baby."

He stared at her, feeling his world tumble around his ears. "You're not…" he asked softly, unable to bring himself to even finish the sentence.

"No. It's Mum."

He looked back over at the Tylers and Mickey, who were still standing far away, watching without comment. "She's three months gone," Rose continued while he stared unashamedly, "more Tylers on the way."

He looked back to Rose. "And what about you, what are you…" he trailed off. She had a separate life now. A life he was no longer a part of.

"Yeah I'm back working in the shop."

"Oh, good for you," he said, knowing full well how much she had hated working there. She had to be joking, and yet he found it hard to smile at the thought that he was leaving her here, that soon her life would be the same as before. As though he had never existed.

"Oh shut up. No I'm not. There's still a Torchwood on this planet that's open for business. Think I know a thing or two about aliens."

"Rose Tyler, Defender of the Earth. You're dead," he swallowed, "officially, back home." She was losing her battle against her grief, now, and he was dangerously close to joining her. "So many people died that day and you'd gone missing," he explained. "You're on the list of the dead."

He had nearly died himself when he had seen that. The TARDIS had shown him just before the beach had appeared before him, as if to remind him that there was nothing that he could – or should – do to stop this.

"But here you are living a life day after day. The one adventure I could never have."

Somehow she managed to force words through her tears. "Am I ever going to see you again?"

"You can't."

"What you gonna do?"

"Oh I've got a TARDIS. Same old life; last of the Time Lords." He felt a little more of his composure melting away at the mere thought of that life.

"On your own?"

It was all he could do to nod. She made a noise halfway between the start of a sentence and halfway between the start of a sneeze before her head dropped down, her hair obscuring her face from the Doctor's view.

"I love you," she enunciated, looking relieved at having finally said it.

"Quite right too." He paused, looking into her crying eyes, knowing that this was the last time he would see them, the last time he would ever have the chance to tell her. It was time to stop running. "And I suppose… if it's my last chance to say it…"

And yet he couldn't help but hesitate. He stood in his TARDIS and yet on that windy beach in Norway, that beach practically made for him and Rose, and found that the words just wouldn't come. That he just couldn't say them. It just hurt too much. He breathed in, could feel his mouth hanging open, gaping like a goldfish, and suddenly felt extremely, ridiculously glad that Rose's family and Mickey were nowhere within earshot.

"Rose Tyler-"

The TARDIS suddenly heaved, as if she had been trying frantically to keep the connection going and had been forced, against her will, to stop it. The sun had gone.

And the Doctor was left standing alone next to the console, a solitary tear rolling from his eye, his mouth still open as if to say the long awaited words to thin air.


	2. Memories

**A/N:**Thank you to those of you who read the first chapter and many thanks to those of you who reviewed - it was good to know what you thought of it :) As promised, here is the second chapter, which is more a deleted scene style chapter than the first, so I hope you enjoy it.

**2. Memories.**

The seconds seemed to crawl by agonisingly slowly. The ship was silent now that the supernova was no longer coursing through its system. There was nothing but the sound of his laboured breathing, the rapid thumping of his hearts as they tried to leap out of his throat and reminding him that, despite all ideas and wishes to the contrary, he was in fact still very much alive.

His face was wet, droplets dripping onto his shirt. He had dared to hope that, with Rose, he could have avoided this forever; tears had started to become foreign to him, something he had never thought possible, especially after the Time War. She had always known exactly how to make him laugh. She had even gone so far as to embarrass herself on occasion, just to see the smallest of smiles.

And now she wasn't here and the TARDIS sounded how he felt. Dead. Completely and utterly.

He sank slowly onto the Captain's seat, not even bothering to look at the console. It would only tell him what he already knew – that had been the last crack. The very last one.

He hung his head and stared at his shoes. Converses. A much better choice than a stick of celery, he thought, and almost shuddered. Now he understood the human aversion to looking at old photographs of themselves – they always hated their hair or what they were wearing. Time Lords had never had that problem. Fashion blind, every last one of them. But in fairness it was hard to have fashion when everyone kept regenerating all the time – tastes were constantly changing. He remembered one designer who had spent an entire incarnation dedicated to designing clothes, until one day he'd died, regenerated, and had decided that he would rather be a nudist. Thankfully that particular trend had never caught on.

He looked up and opened his mouth, his face splitting into a wide grin, ready to tell Rose…

His mouth snapped shut so fast it made his teeth hurt. He got up and walked around the console, as if to fly it, and glanced over at Rose's usual haunt on the opposite side, by the barrier.

And she was there.

_"So, Doctor," she said cheerfully, "where to next?"_

"I was thinking of Hawaii," he murmured, remembering how he had fought to keep a straight face.

"_But Earth's so booooring," she whined, flicking her hair out of her eyes. _

"Yes, I agree," he had teased, grinning at her expression. "But Planet Hawaii isn't."

_She stared at him. "What, a beach planet?"_

"Yep!" He whispered, hand hovering over the leaver he had pulled with a flourish.

_"So it's all beaches? Literally, all of it, everything… beaches?"_

"_Well_… there are a few forests… _well_, I say a few, I mean one…"

_"How do they breathe?"_

The Doctor had looked up and stared at her.

_"What?"_

"You're the first person to ask me that. But it's a very interesting system, you see, instead of trees giving off oxygen, there are-"

_"Actually," she laughed, "if it's going to be a long winded explanation I don't think I want to know."_

"But it's interesting!"

_"Yeah, to you maybe, Mister Spock, but it's way above me." She noticed his crestfallen expression. "Alright, if you want to explain something, explain the heating. Why's it so hot in here?"_

The Doctor stared at the console, remembering how he had been pushing buttons during their conversation, and smiled sadly. "To get us in the mood for Hawaii," he found himself saying, continuing the memory that was playing out in his mind, "I jacked it up a few notches."

_"Only a few?" She asked snidely, shrugging out of her jacket and leaving it on the railing behind her. The Doctor tried really, very hard not to stare. "It doesn't feel like a few."_

"That's because human physiology is more susceptible to temperature change."

_"Slagging off us puny humans again are we?" She asked, sticking her tongue out between her teeth to let him know she was joking. She was getting closer. _

"Oh," he sighed, closing his eyes and picturing her in his mind's eye; cheeks slightly red from the higher temperature, clashing with her new white t-shirt, which was just short enough to show off her belt. "I would never do that."

Grinning, he had pulled down hard on a red lever, sending them careering through the time vortex, the TARDIS whirring and groaning as if it was going to explode. The Doctor glanced at the screen to his left and remembered how he had watched for the right moment… just a second longer… tiny bit longer… there!... and then he had landed the TARDIS with his usual style and grace. Which of course meant none at all.

_Rose picked herself gingerly up off the floor. _

"Anything broken?"

_"Just my pride," she said, smirking. "Shall we?"_

He stuck his arm out for a phantom arm to take it, finding himself now facing the TARDIS doors. His mind registered dimly that the TARDIS was humming in concern for him, but his mind was lost to the memories, memories which he desperately wished could become his new reality. He would give anything to live them again, and yet he knew that he couldn't.

_She took his arm and reached up to ruffle his hair. "I love it. Your new hair."_

"What was wrong with my old hair?"

_"Nothing," she said, steering him out of the TARDIS and onto the beach paradise that was Planet Hawaii. "But this new style is all fluffy and stick-y up-y. It's nice."_

"Stick-y up-y?" He asked wryly, standing just before the TARDIS doors. His hand reached for the handle, but the TARDIS suddenly shook, knocking him off balance, reminding him that they were still in flight. Right. He'd forgotten. He sighed. "Is that the new technical term?"

_"I'm good at technical terms, me," she said in a near perfect imitation of his ninth incarnation_. _"Come on Doctor, enough nattering – this is a planet of beaches!" And she had dropped his arm and taken off at a run, disappearing towards the sea of endless blue. _

He laughed weakly, hand gently touching the blue wooden doors. The endless blue.

oOo

"Come on Rose! You have to try it!" He had held his ice cream out to her. Now, on the TARDIS, he was simply sitting and staring. Sitting, staring and speaking to thin air.

_She giggled. "No! You're never getting me to try that, that… __**thing**__!"_

"Thing, what thing? It's ice cream!" _She shook her head_. "Come oooon, ice cream! Banana and prune ice cream – there's nothing better!"

_"Are you __**actually**__ insane?" She teased, taking a lick of her own chocolate scoop. They were sitting on one of the planet's many beaches, their feet buried in the sand. A few drops of ice cream had fallen onto the Doctor's side of their towel. "Banana is bad enough!"_

"Banana is bad enough?" The Doctor mimicked. "Now you're the one who's crazy. I've never heard a single person say anything bad about a banana. Except monkeys. Monkeys get sick of them very, very quickly, which is fair enough, if you're living off them, but _still_, bananas are good. Nearly everyone agrees about that."

_"Monkeys?"_

He had looked at her matter-of-factly, not noticing that a giant dollop of his beloved ice cream had now joined the other drops on the towel. "Yes, monkeys."

_"And how would you know what they think about bananas, then? Are you psychic or something?"_

"_Well_…" he had coughed, deciding to only address one issue at a time. "I speak monkey."

_"No!" She laughed. "You do __**not**__ speak monkey!"_

"Oh I do too," he had countered, and had followed it up with taking a bite out of his ice cream and closing his eyes, revelling in the banana-prune goodness.

_"Yeah, right, whatever," she said, openly laughing at him now. "I'll believe that when I see it."_

He had cleared his throat. "Oo oo."

_She looked like she was ready to cry, she was laughing so hard. "I'm sorry, what was that?"_

"Oo oo." The TARDIS shivered slightly, like she was trying not to laugh. He remembered that, technically, he was doing a monkey impression without any audience. "Oo oo ah ah?"

_She started choking on her ice cream at that, smearing chocolate all over her face and dribbling it all down her new shirt. But she had barely seemed to notice, seeming more focussed on breathing through her hysterics. The Doctor simply nodded to the people who were staring, and triumphantly ate the last of his ice cream. _

oOo

The Doctor sighed and stretched, the memory having run out. Rose was gone again, but if he closed his eyes, if he pretended that she was somewhere in the TARDIS, just getting a cup of tea and was coming back in a minute, he could almost pretend that he was ok.

The TARDIS flashed a screen at him, and he obligingly looked at the information on it. "No, I don't want to go back." It was Earth. London, to be precise, and just after Rose's time.

The TARDIS hummed insistently and more information flashed up on the screen. "You have _not_ been stationary for a week." She hummed again, and this time shook a little. "Ok, alright, fine. You're restless. But I'm not ready."

The temperature plunged so low that it was starting to make even the Doctor uncomfortable. "Stop it." He could see an icicle beginning to form on one of the pillars. "Alright, fine, I give up."

The TARDIS warmed up happily as the Doctor obligingly set the coordinates that she had provided him. "But don't think this means you'll always get to go where you want to go, because it doesn't! _I'm_ the pilot!" He conveniently managed to forget all the times that he had been kidnapped by his own ship.

They landed relatively smoothly, and the Doctor surmised that they had landed – or, rather, materialised – in orbit around the Earth.

"Why are we in orbit, I thought you wanted to go to London?"

No answer. He sighed and looked down at the console, idly flicking switches, before a flash of white caught his eye. He looked up. And made eye contact with a bride.

"What?" She turned around at the sound of his voice and let out a tiny shriek of surprise. "What?"

"Who are you?" She asked, looking him up and down. "Where am I?"

He stared at her. This was impossible. Surely this was impossible. "What?"

"What the hell is this place?"

He squinted at her. How could she get onto the TARDIS without even knowing she was aiming for it? "_What_? But you can't do that; we're in flight, that's physically impossible, you-"

"Tell me where I am." She demanded, starting to sound angry. "I demand you tell me _right now_ where am I?"

"Inside the TARDIS," he replied dumbly, not knowing what else to say.

"The what?"

"The TARDIS," he said, a little bit louder, turning towards the console. How had this even happened? He'd been in orbit with his defences up!

"The _what_?"

"The TARDIS!" Blimey, talk about deaf and mysterious.

"The _**what**_?"

"It's called the TARDIS."

"That's not even a proper word! You're just saying things!"

He snapped his gaze back to her. How could someone just beam themselves aboard the TARDIS and then quibble over semantics? "How did you get in here?"

"Well obviously when you kidnapped me!" she hissed angrily. He looked her up and down. No, just as he thought, he didn't know her. Why was she dressed as a bride? That wasn't very threatening, if it was meant to be threatening… "Who was it?" she continued, "Who's paying you? Is it Nerys – oh my _God_ she's finally got me back! This has got _Nerys_ written all over it!"

He stared at her, rubbing the back of his neck in sheer confusion. No threats, no ultimatums, no weapons – she hadn't even tried to take control of the TARDIS, hadn't even known what it was. If this was supposed to be a trick, it was a very good one – so good, it didn't even look like a trick. And _Nerys_?

"Who the hell's Nerys?"

"You're best friend."

"Hold on, wait a minute… What are you dressed like that for?"

"I'm going ten pin bowling," she said, in an almost pleasant voice, before swapping it disturbingly quickly for her previous angry shout. "What do you think, dumbo, I was halfway up the aisle!"

The Doctor felt himself involuntarily take a step backwards. This was going to be interesting.


	3. The Lonely God

**3. The Lonely God.**

_Dear Rose, _

_ I don't really know why I'm writing this. You know me – I'm useless at letters. So much opportunity to ramble on and on and on and on and on and… well, you get the idea. Hopefully. I don't know if this letter will ever reach you. I hope it does. _

_ But it's so difficult to write, and it'll be difficult to send, too, in more ways than one. I'm sorry if it's just as hard to read, Rose, because the last thing I want to do is to cause you pain, especially if you're getting settled there. You have your family now, like you always wanted. _

_ I hope you're well. I think of you a lot, you know; how you're getting on, how long you've been there. Whether you're happy. And the answer is different every single time. I hate not knowing. _

_ I'm still with the TARDIS, same old life. Only it doesn't seem as fun anymore. It gets harder and harder to run. I've almost been killed three times – hardly surprising, I know, you always said I was too clumsy for my own good – once by a giant malteser. Never go to Candy Planet in summer, Rose – everything starts to melt. And __**definitely**__ don't take a shower under a melting malteser tree, because the thing inside – whatever it is – falls eventually. So I guess I should have seen that one coming. I wish you could have seen that planet, Rose, you would have loved it. And it was the next place that I'd been planning to take you. _

_ Probably should have done that sooner. _

The Doctor hesitated for a few moments, pen hanging over the page. If he did manage to send it, she'd want to know. He'd never managed to say it, after all, and now of all times she deserved to hear it. The Doctor sighed and lowered his hand to the page, his shaking almost making the words illegible.

_I miss you. _

He looked at what he'd written and could have kicked himself. He still couldn't say it, not even now. The wrong three words stared back at him, wobbling drunkenly underneath his usual untidy scrawl. He briefly considered crossing it out and writing the correct ones, but before he could even pick up his pen again he heard a wailing from the control room.

He stood up so fast that he almost tripped over the chair and ran out of Rose's room into the control room, where the screen was flashing insistently. The alarms turned off as soon as he entered.

"What is it then?" He asked the TARDIS, almost feeling as though someone were in the room with him.

He shoved his glasses onto his nose and stared at the screen. A distress call and coordinates. He grinned when he realised he had never been there before and had no idea where it even was. This was just what he needed – a distraction.

He ran around the console, more subdued and less frantic than normal, pulling levers, pushing buttons and hitting the console with a sledgehammer. He must have hit it too hard at one point, because the TARDIS suddenly lurched to the side. But he barely noticed. He was on a role, he was an adventurer once again and he was off to save someone. Or at least, he sincerely hoped he would be able to save them. Rose's screaming, terrified face swam in front of his mind's eye, and he landed the TARDIS a bit harder than he would have liked.

The Doctor crashed to the floor and found himself, rather worryingly, fighting to breathe through an alarmingly sudden cloud of smoke. He bounded back to his feet and stared at the console in horror. It was on fire. He'd managed to set it _on fire_ just by landing. He could practically hear Rose laughing at him as he frantically put the fire out.

"Right," he sighed, throwing the fire extinguisher to one side and surveying the damage, "this'll take a while to fix, won't it?"

The TARDIS hummed in agreement. The Doctor glanced at the screen. A day or two. Great.

"Well," he announced, to himself, "I'll just have to hope the distress call wasn't due to giant, Time Lord-eating dinosaurs. And if it was…" he muttered, trailing off. Rose muttered "_you're stuffed_" in his ear. "Yes," he agreed, aloud.

He opened the doors almost with his usual zeal and stepped out onto the new planet that awaited him, ignoring the smoke that escaped from the brief time the doors were open. It was very Earth-like, and yet alien at the same time. Blue skies, green grass, brown bark on the trees, but everything was a shade off; like an old television becoming reluctant to work properly, everything was slightly too bright and seemed somehow undefined. A bird screeched overhead and the Doctor started, hearing an Earth parrot with a lower pitch. He looked up; it looked like a sparrow. Right.

Just when he thought it couldn't get any weirder, what looked like a brown, domesticated cat walked passed. He watched as it skulked in front of a large, grey boulder and stared, in interested disbelief, as its fur turned grey. He squinted at the area where the cat was, barely able to see it now.

"That's brilliant!" He announced to himself. He swallowed and looked down at his shoes. Always to himself.

But before he could continue in his thoughts he noticed a very efficient and surprisingly intelligent team of bugs untying his shoelaces. "Hey!" He swatted at them. "Stop that!" He bent down and re-tied his shoes, muttering about Douglas Adams and dolphins. Humans had no idea.

Having decided that he should probably focus on the distress call rather than staring at an unfamiliar planet and getting side-tracked – why was he so good at getting side-tracked? – the Doctor withdrew his sonic screwdriver and began scanning the area, hoping to find a sign of the ship. Or escape pod. Hopefully not military ship, he reflected idly. That would definitely not be so brilliant.

Aha! There it was! He span around, sonic screwdriver thrust out in front of him like a magic wand, and began blindly following it, barely paying attention to any of his surroundings. He almost tripped over a tree root at one point, but found that before his foot could even become properly entangled in it, the tree yanked it away with an apologetic sort of shudder, sending leaves spiralling down to the ground.

After half an hour of scrabbling through bushes, almost getting trampled by a truly gigantic and murderous looking rabbit, and wallowing through bubbling mud, the Doctor found the ship. It was small – hardly bigger than an escape shuttle, and had clearly been to hell and back. The nose was crumpled into a mound of earth that now had a few small flowers growing tentatively out of it. The Doctor surmised that it must have nose-dived into the ground until it skidded to a halt, where it had lain for… he fiddled with the sonic screwdriver and scratched the back of his neck in contemplation… about half a year, going by the rate of growth that he had observed so far.

He tentatively approached the door – which was hanging off its hinges – and poked his head inside, not really expecting to see anyone at this point. Still, it was worth a try, wasn't it?

"Hello?"

Nobody answered. He stepped further inside, his eyes adjusting slowly to the darkness, and waved his sonic around him in a half circle, scanning for life.

"Hello?"

No life signs. He sighed, but nevertheless stepped forwards, keeping his eyes peeled for bodies. Instead, he saw a console which was split open, with wires seemingly pouring out of it randomly. On top of the console sat a handheld communicator, attached to the wires coming out of the console below it. The Doctor peered at it. Though the power in the ship was clearly failing – no doubt having run off emergency reserves for the past few months, given the likely state of the engines – he could see the distress signal that he had received.

He looked up and noticed a door hanging open to his left, revealing bunk beds. A quick inspection of that room proved that there were no bodies, but that there were also no supplies. Had they managed to escape?

His musings were interrupted by a loud shout from outside, and he ran out into the forest, poised for danger, only to find himself toppling unexpectedly to the floor as he was hit over the back of the head.

As he fell into unconsciousness, Rose's face swam in his vision, telling him to wash his mouth out with soap, because it was full of dirt. Before he could even begin to understand what she meant, everything went dark.

oOo

He awoke what felt like a short time later only to find that the sky was dark and the temperature had dropped. He groaned, shivering, and placed a hand on the back of his head, where he could feel a clump of hair sticky with blood. He swallowed thickly and sat up, spitting out dirt. Ah. He nodded once to himself. At least he wasn't going completely mad, then.

He was in a cage made of bamboo, alone. In the corner was a small bowl filled with water and a slightly mouldy looking piece of bread. The dim sound of chattering drew him to what could have been considered the door, and he stared out at a clearing full of people and a roaring fire.

They were gathered in a circle, dressed in animal furs and skins that made him regret landing the TARDIS in such an obvious place. Especially as they were now pointing to him, looking agitated, and then pointing to the sky. He frowned as he realised that the majority were pointing to the ground instead after pointing at the fire, shouting in a language that he was too far away to make out.

"Hello?"

The Doctor jumped and jerked away from the bars, not having expected that. While he had been watching the tribe, someone had approached his cage and squatted down to his level.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to make you jump."

He pulled himself together quickly and looked the newcomer up and down. Just like the others, he was dressed in animal skins and had wild, untamed hair and a fairly long beard. Unlike the others, however, he was looking at the Doctor with an expression of hope.

"Erm…" to his embarrassment, he could almost feel himself stuttering. It had been quite a while since he had had a conversation with someone who wasn't the TARDIS or an imaginary Rose. "Yes. I mean… no. No, you didn't. I was just…" he floundered for a moment, "thinking."

The man raised his eyebrows. "Thinking." His voice held an incredulous tinge to it. "In a cage? In a cage built by locals who could be deciding what spice you would taste best with?"

The Doctor very deliberately kept eye contact, knowing that he couldn't back out now. "Yes. But tell me," he ploughed on, before the man could add anything else, "who are you? And, come to think of it, where are we?"

"I'm Alan-"

"Alonso?" He asked, despite himself. It really had been too long since he'd talked to anyone. He got the impression that he was even more easily distracted than usual, now.

The man stared at him. "No, _Alan_. I'm from Earth, as was the shuttle you were exploring when they found you."

"Earth? What century is this?"

If the Doctor thought Alan had been staring before, he was definitely staring now. "The 51st," he answered slowly. "Do you have a concussion or something?"

"No," the Doctor replied, vaguely aware that he was being rude and yet unable to stop himself. _Rude and not ginger_. "I'm a Time Lord. I don't get concussions. And if I did, it would be healed by now. And even if I was – concussed, that is, not a Time Lord – it would be silly to ask me if I had one."

Alan nodded, staring. "Right."

The Doctor cleared his throat. "Ok, good. So… are there any others, Alan?"

"Just me and Sally."

"That shuttle was equipped for three people," the Doctor pointed out. "Did the tribe…"

"No," Alan said quickly. "No, Tom was killed in the crash. He was flying the shuttle, so he was in the front when it crashed."

"I'm sorry," he replied, solemnly. After a brief pause, when it became apparent Alan wasn't going to say anything more, he asked, "What were you doing here, on…"

"It doesn't have a name," Alan filled in. "That's what we were doing – we were part of a larger ship, an exploration mission going further into space, when we came across this planet. Our captain sent us down to get a closer look, collect samples, take photos… that sort of thing."

"Oh I see," he said, grinning. "Very Star Trek. So why aren't you in cages like me? What happened?"

"The natives saw our ship crash," Alan explained. "In fact, they were out hunting when it happened, and our ship killed and injured several people. They almost killed us on the spot but Sally managed to heal one of their injured with our first aid kit. I think they thought we were gods because suddenly they took us back to their village and we were given a hut, where they kept bringing their sick and injured for Sally to fix. And they kept giving us food offerings. They once tried to burn someone at the stake as a sacrifice to thank us for all we had done – I think, I don't speak their language but I imagine it was that – but Sally screamed and screamed at them – I've never seen that woman rant that long or that hard – and they abandoned the whole idea." He paused to take a breath. "We've been here since the crash, collecting samples when we can get away from our… er… god duties I suppose you would call it."

"Yes, it does seem like they think you're gods," the Doctor commented, as though this sort of thing happened every day. "Falling from the sky and then miraculously healing their injured would tend to do that."

The natives by the fire seemed to be getting more and more angry with each other, and several fights had started to break out. An older looking man – possibly the chief – was required to step in to stop some of them.

"Where's Sally?"

"She's off getting samples. She'll be back soon."

Almost on cue, a short, plump woman in animal skins with greying hair came running into the clearing. The natives broke off their arguing to stare at her curiously, but she ignored all of them, having eyes only for Alan and the Doctor. She dropped to her knees by the Doctor's cage and stared at him, mouth slightly agape as she panted for breath.

"Is this it? A rescue?" She demanded, still staring at the Doctor.

"Er…" he tugged awkwardly at his ear. "If it was it's gone a bit wrong. Wouldn't be able to let me out, would you?"

"But you're the owner of the blue box, aren't you?" She asked, not making any move to let him out. "I saw it while I was walking back. In a place like this, it could only be a spaceship. Right?"

He nodded. "Yes. It's a… spaceship." Best leave out all the time travel for now.

She frowned at him. "Bit small."

"Yeah, well," the Doctor floundered, annoyed, "so is this cage, so can you let me out now or not?"

Diplomatically choosing not to comment, she leaned forward and made to open the door to his cage. And the tribe behind her practically exploded in alarm and rushed over as one, some brandishing fiery torches.

"Ok, they don't seem to like that, get back!" The Doctor ordered. Sally let go of the door.

The Chief walked up to her and gestured with his torch, looking panicked. At first his words sounded like babble, but then the TARDIS translation circuit kicked in and the Doctor found himself able to understand what he was saying. Though, judging by the confused looks on Alan and Sally's face, they couldn't.

"No, no, no, no!" The Doctor protested, interrupting the man when he got to the word 'devil'. "I'm not the devil! Really," he emphasised, pointing to his face and grinning, "does this face look evil to you?"

Several men raised some very pointy looking spears.

"Oh." He muttered, disappointed. "Didn't know I looked _that_ bad. Is it the hair?" He asked. "Because I have to say, at this point, I'm actually glad it's not ginger. Fiery red locks probably wouldn't help me right now."

"You speak our language," the Chief said, ignoring the rest of the Doctor's babble. "How is this?"

"Oh… that. Well… I sort of speak everything."

"That is impossible."

"No it really isn't. I'm doing it now." He waved at them and grinned. "Hello!"

"Witchcraft!" Someone yelled.

"Even the gods can't speak our language!" A young man pointed out, stepping up to the Chief and nodding at Alan and Sally. "See? They wear looks of confusion."

"What's happening?" Alan asked, slightly alarmed.

"They think I'm the Devil," the Doctor replied, in the most matter-of-fact tone he could muster.

"What?" Alan turned to the Chief. "No, he isn't the Devil! He's like us!"

The Chief just stared at him. "I don't think he understands," the Doctor said.

"He understands you."

"Long story," the Doctor muttered, "and I don't really have time to tell it right now." He turned back to the Chief. "Listen to me, please, I'm not the Devil! I'm only here to help. Name's the Doctor. Not the Devil. See?"

"What is that, how are you doing that?" Sally demanded. "You speak English to us and then you turn around and speak in their language. But it's not even a registered language, yet, so you can't know it!"

The Doctor barely refrained from rolling his eyes. "I'm a fast learner."

Meanwhile, the tribe had been staring at the Doctor with varying degrees of fear and apprehension, muttering among themselves. The Chief himself seemed to be undecided.

"I'm not the Devil," the Doctor tried again. "I'm not even a god. I'm just an ordinary person, like you. I'm only here for these two people," he said, nodding his head at Alan and Sally, "and then I'll be gone forever. I'm only here to take them home."

"Legend dictates that an evil God will come to take away the good ones," the Chief said, his expression not changing. "You arrived with smoke."

"Smoke? That was because my… er… _transport_ had caught on fire because I crashed it," he explained, but he could tell from their expressions that they were not convinced.

"The good gods made our lives better," the young boy standing next to the Chief said, "they fixed us. Then came the shakings. Legend says that shakings happen when a god is angry. Then you came in fire and smoke and try to take the good gods away, and you expect us to believe you are not the Devil?" The boy shook his head in wonder. "The shakings only happen before something very evil. You can only be the Devil."

"Ah," the Doctor said, realising he had really put his foot in it this time, "but not in this case. Shakings, did you say? They're not what you think. Earthquakes – or shakings, as you call them – don't happen because of the gods, they happen because it's weather, because it's what's naturally meant to happen. I'm not here to hurt you!"

"Send him back where he came from!" A woman shouted from the back of the crowd. She was soon joined by other, shouting voices. Torches were waved angrily in the air.

The young boy looked at the Chief expectantly. The Chief, after turning around and surveying his people, seemed to realise that he had no choice if he didn't want an uprising on his hands. He nodded to the young boy, who beckoned to two stronger men to help him with the door.

The Doctor ran a hand through his hair. This wasn't good. Far from it, in fact.

"What?" Alan shouted over the din of the tribe as they shouted and screamed for justice. "What's going on?" He stepped out of the way of the opening door.

"They still think I'm the Devil," the Doctor shouted back, even as he struggled against the two, much stronger men pulling him from his cage, "and they're about to send me back to where I came from!"

"Your spaceship?" Sally asked.

The Doctor was being dragged along the clearing now, past the fire and into the trees. He struggled to get some grip on the ground but found his legs moving forwards despite his best efforts. The two men, beefy from having to hunt for every meal, where much too strong from his lanky frame. Not for the first time, the Doctor found himself cursing the lack of muscle on this body.

"Hey!" Sally repeated, running after him, "Where are they taking you?"

"I'm not sure," the Doctor ground out between breaths as he struggled for his life, very aware of the chanting and yelling in his ears, "but I think it might be the source of the earthquakes."

"The volcano?" Alan asked, dread appearing on his face as the thought sank in. "But that would-"

"Kill me, yes!" The Doctor said, losing more of his self-control with every step and full out fighting for his freedom now. "So I'd appreciate it if you could talk to them!"

"And tell them what?" Alan demanded. "We can't understand each other!"

The Doctor yelled in frustration. "I don't know, just tell them _something_!"

But before Alan could reply, they found themselves at the bottom of the volcano, and the Chief and a few other men were blocking his path, the Chief jabbering something in a language that made no sense to the two humans. And the Doctor's yells were getting quieter and quieter as the tribe forced him up the side of the volcano.


End file.
